I saw the sun this morning, little dreamer-
I never died.
Would never die today, I just found you again.

The love letters on my desk remind me,
that once you were beautiful,
and there were songs to be
sung after dark,
and kisses so deep you could get drunk off the bourbon
remaining on my tongue.

Remembering is hard for me.

I cry sometimes,
sitting in my stillness
with a lovely heart that quit beating a decade ago.
I watch with indifferent eyes
the sinners,
as they turn their shameful faces
toward the moon
and cry out for salvation and mercy,
knowing to well that
when I judge them
I will have neither.

If I said I loved you
would it make a difference?
Would you still hop on that train
and be another fallen star
in Boston?